Daughter of Darkness
by Darkest-Light351
Summary: Olivia was prisoner to Lord Voldemort her entire life until she was rescued by Severus Snape when she was 11, just before the Dark Lord's first fall. Years later, when the Dark Lord returns, Albus Dumbledore needs her help. Olivia reluctantly agrees, never knowing what her and Snape would be forced to do as double agents, and never guessing what their relationship would turn in to.
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape licked his lips nervously, while he consciously resisted grasping at the painful, burning sensation on his left forearm. His palms were sweaty; his normally steady hands were shaking. And the world seemed to be spinning around him.

His exterior belied his internal turmoil, however. He sat waiting in Dumbledore's office, seated in one of the cushioned chairs in front of the Headmasters desk, his head resting in his hands. The only sign of his nearly boundless concerns was his rapidly bouncing leg, which was twitching with his restless agitation. He knew what was to come. He had known it the moment the mark had burned black several hours ago; and if there had been any doubt in his mind, it had been erased when Potter reappeared from the maze, clutching Cedric Diggory's dead body as if it were his only tether to this world.

"He's back," Potter had gasped.

Screams had erupted around them at the site of Diggory's body. Wails had been rent into the night with abandon. Fear had run so rampant you could nearly feel it thrumming in the air. Severus had felt it thrumming in the pit of his stomach. With those two words his fate had been sealed. The Dark Lord had returned, and so too had his duty.

He had always known that if Voldemort returned, Dumbledore would ask for his service once again, so it had not been a surprise when it had been brought up earlier. As to his chance of success, he would place his odds at slim to none.

Returning to the Dark Lord this evening would more than likely mean his death. But that was not what was bothering him. His worry was what lengths the Headmaster would go to ensure Snape's success. Who would Dumbledore sacrifice in order to ensure he had a spy amongst the Death Eaters?

The Headmaster was currently still down in the hospital wing, seeing to Potter and making arrangements to call together the Order of the Phoenix. War was coming, and Severus was about to find himself in the middle of it.

"You know what I must ask you to do," Dumbledore had said in the hospital wing, just after his altercation with Cornelius Fudge, that pathetic excuse for a Minister of Magic.

There would be no help from anyone. Severus would be in this alone. A double agent, caught between two worlds, in which nobody completely trusted him. It was a lonely life, but it was how he preferred it. He did not like people much, as it was.

"I can't promise you success," Severus had whispered back to Dumbledore, trying to see to it that nobody else over heard them. He could geel those irksomely nosey Weasleys, plus Potter and Granger, staring at him, "There is no guarantee that he will trust me after I've spent nearly 15 years in your service."

"Wait for me in my office," Dumbledore had said. His blue eyes were hard, determined, but there was also a flicker of something else, like hesitation, "There is something that will ensure your loyalty to the Dark Lord if all else fails."

Severus had not liked the sound of that. He had a feeling he knew what Dumbledore was talking about, or rather who. He would not sacrifice her. No cause was worth it. Not even this one. He had nearly died trying to get her out of the country all those years ago, during the height of Voldemort's first reign. To bring her back now, to subject her to this after all that had been done to her – after all _he_ had done to her - was cruel.

She had been only eleven years old when he had seen her the last time. Just old enough to be receiving her Hogwarts letter, and yet she had already been through a lifetime of torture beyond what most people could handle. She had been the Dark Lord's guinea pig. She had been experimented on in the most horrific of ways, and now Snape had a suspicion that Dumbledore meant to use her as a bargaining chip.

The door to the office swung open. Severus pulled his head from his hands in time to see Dumbledore sweeping into the office, his purple robes billowing behind him. He took a seat behind the desk, his face masked in that piercing gaze he was so famous for.

"Severus," he said.

"Albus," Snape replied, shortly. He did not want to have this conversation. He knew what the old man was going to suggest. He knew he would think it a small price to pay. What did one life matter in the greater scheme of all things?

"It is not easy for me to ask this of you," Dumbledore began.

"I would think the task is easier for you to ask of, than for me to perform," Snape replied, snidely.

"Severus, I know this is difficult for you. You work so hard - "

"Don't patronize me, Albus. I will do what you ask of me. But do not act like it is difficult for you to ask. You have your plans - they are what matter to you. The rest of us are merely tools for you to carry out what you deem necessary."

"You know that is not true," Dumbledore said, patiently.

Snape paused, his typical sneer in place upon his face, as he stared at Dumbledore. Perhaps the man did care, but even so, his plans would always outweigh his personal feelings. Look at Potter. He did not even know half of what Dumbledore was expecting of him. He was to be kept in the dark, until the right time, even if it was not the right thing to do. Dumbledore was brilliant, but that brilliance was born from cold calculation, whether the old man admitted it or not.

"I have every faith in you," Dumbledore ventured.

Snape scoffed, "Your faith will do very little for me when I am kneeling in front of the Dark Lord. More than likely, he shall kill me before I utter a single word."

Dumbledore paused, as if choosing his words wisely, "We have something that he wants. He will know that you may be his only chance of getting the information he desires."

"Some_one_," Snape bit out, annoyed that Dumbledore would dance around his point even as Severus was about to set off to his potential death, "We have _someone_ that he wants, not something. You're speaking of Olivia, and she is, as far as I know, a person. Merlin's beard! At least have the decency to admit it! I risked everything to save that girl and you want to just toss her back like a sacrificial lamb."

"She is no longer a girl, Severus. She is a grown woman, nearly 26. I do not plan to force her into anything. It may be, instead, that she would want to help."

"She wouldn't," said Snape.

"And how would you know?" asked Dumbledore, "You have never once gone to visit her, all these years. You know nothing of her anymore."

"And you do?" Asked Snape, angrily. It was not Dumbledore's place to comment on the fact that Snape had not gone to visit the girl. There were things Dumbledore did not understand, couldn't understand. Severus had cared deeply for her, but he had also done terrible things to her - things that she had no idea he was responsible for. He had saved her, but that was only a fraction of the debt repaid. In truth, he was doing her a favor by breaking off contact. She was better off without another monster in her life.

"I have gone to visit her ever summer since we relocated her to America. She has grown into an amazing woman, albeit, with a sarcastic temperament, which does actually remind me strikingly of you, although there is a bit more good-humor behind it."

Dumbledore smiled at Snape, his eyes dancing.

"You speak fondly of her, and yet you are preparing to sacrifice her like she is worth nothing to you."

"I plan no such thing, Severus. If you would listen, you will understand. She is not to be sacrificed; she is to be made your ally. A second spy."

"We have no right to ask that of her. We have to right to drag her into this!" Snape said, angrily.

"To the contrary, Severus, we have no right to keep what has happened, from her. If anyone deserves to know of Lord Voldemort's return, it is Olivia. She can decide from there whether she wishes to be involved."

"Even if she wanted to help, setting her up as another spy would never work," scoffed Snape, "She ran away from the Dark Lord, escaped him, at the risk of her life – we helped her to the risk of our entire cause! How is she supposed to convince him that she now returns a loyal servant?"

"It will not be easy, but it will be possible. But first you must offer her to Tom. The plan will mean nothing if Tom is not interested in obtaining her. I am sure that he will be, and it will be an excellent way for you to reprove your loyalties, but you should never count your doxies before they hatch, so first she must be offered."

"He will want her back," Snape said. However long Voldemort had been gone; he knew the sting of losing her would not have faded. Besides, his pride being wounded, Voldemort had invested a lot of time into the experiments he performed on the girl. He would want the results.

"I suspect as much," nodded Dumbledore in agreement.

"But how do you intend to get him to trust her? He knows she hated him, enough to risk her own life to get away from him."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, looking thoughtful, "You will tell him that she did not escape all those years ago. This will, importantly, help to conceal your role in the matter. Rather, you will tell him that I kidnapped her, and only revealed as much to you after Tom's down fall. Tom himself had spread the rumors of the great 'living weapons' he was making in his experimentations. I had intended to use her against him, but when he was vanquished by Harry, I sent her abroad to keep her safe should the time ever arise that I thought we should need her help. Tell him, that as she grew, she began to understand all the things Tom had done to her, all the power he had given her. She realized she had been wrong to ever give in so easily to me when I came to take her away. Rather, she found that she thought Tom's motives honorable. Tell Tom she sought to take up his cause. When I noticed these trends, I wiped her memory and brainwashed her to _our_ cause. I could never risk losing such a powerful weapon. Tell Tom I mean to recall her now, to bring her back to Hogwarts with your help. Tell him that you believe you can reverse the memory charms and create for him a second spy within this very school. Tell him this, and I am sure Tom will not refuse you."

Snape was quiet for several moments. Dumbledore had given this a lot of thought. It was not a fool-proof plan, but it did have a chance of being successful. Still, setting up Olivia as a spy seemed a cruel thing to do. Severus knew more than anyone how difficult of a life that could be.

"Did you modify her memories?" Snape asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. He knew Dumbledore would go to any lengths for this war. Perhaps Dumbledore was only sure Olivia would return because he had shaped her memories to fit the plan.

"Of course not, Severus. Olivia hates Tom more than anyone, more than even Harry, which is why I believe she will willingly join our cause."

"It sounds as if you've put a lot of thought into this," Snape commented.

Dumbledore sighed, "I have always known that Tom would return. I never hid that from you, or her. Kidnapping her weakened him last time. It made him desperate enough to act upon the partial prophecy I had you feed him. I think we can find a similar use for her this time around."

"And where exactly – ARG!" he gasped, as his arm gave a particularly hard throb of pain, "The Dark Lord grows most impatient," he grunted.

"Then go! And come back to see me when you return. We shall set things in motion at that point."

Snape stood up, his face pale, his hands shaking, "If I return, you mean."

"No, Severus, my dear boy, I mean when. Trust me, Tom will want Olivia returned to him. He will keep you alive if it means being able to get his hands on his daughter once more."

**Thanks for checking out my first chapter! Hope you liked it! Comments and reviews are always appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Thanks for reading and making it to chapter 2! Hope you enjoy!**

One week later, Severus Snape found himself packing for his trip to America in order to locate Olivia. She was apparently in New York City, a place he most certainly did not want to have to visit. It was supposed to be one of the greatest cities in the world, but all Severus could think about was how crowded and dirty it must be. Mostly though, he dreaded the crowds. He could put up with a bit of dirt, but he had no desire to be surrounded by people nearly everywhere he went. More than that, however, he had no desire to confront Olivia after nearly 15 years.

Would she be angry with him for abandoning her? Had she somehow found out all the terrible things that he had done to her? Or would she not even remember him?

He thought, perhaps, the realization of that last fear would be even worse that her being angry; but that was selfish of him. If she did not remember him, perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps if she did not remember him, she also had found a way to forget all the horrible things that had happened to her.

But Severus knew that could never be the case. There were some things she would never be able to forget; the evidence of them lived within her, and was painted across her skin in her multitude of scars. Those things had changed the very way that she was able to do magic.

Severus pulled his mind from these thoughts, thoughts of those horrific surgeries _he_ had performed. Thinking on them would not do any good. He had a mission to complete, and getting caught up on his past transgressions would not help with that.

Confronting Lord Voldemort had gone exactly as Dumbledore had thought it would. When Snape had arrived at the grave yard, Voldemort had not been in a pleasant mood, to say the least. Potter had escaped merely hours before, and the mutilated corpses of several Death Eaters littered the various grave sites. It seemed a rather wasteful way for Voldemort to vent his frustration, by killing his own men, but Severus had wisely kept that thought closely guarded with occlumency.

Lucius Malfoy was being tortured when Severus had arrived. He looked as if he had endured several rounds of the cruciatus curse. His limbs twitched randomly, but violently and a thin trail of blood dripped from his nose. Voldemort seemed to have bored of that curse however, for by the time Severus had arrived, the Dark Lord had moved on to using another favorite curse of his, _flagella._

A thick, red, hot whip was flying through the air, biting flesh from Lucius back as his screams echoed out into the night. The other remaining death eaters looked on uncomfortably.

Lucky for Lucius, the Dark Lord had soon turned his fury on Snape. Snape was accused of betrayal, and endured what felt like an endless cycle of whipping followed by bouts of the cruciatus curse. He had no idea how he managed to keep his mind shielded from the Dark Lord, but his guard had never come down. And, after when felt like an eternity, Severus had finally been able to convince Voldemort of his loyalty. He communicated to the Dark Lord his offer – he could bring him Olivia, and beyond even that, she would be loyal to him.

This news had cheered Lord Voldemort greatly, "At long last, my lethal weapon, returned to me. If I do not kill her for her insubordination, she will prove valuable in my plans."

"My Lord, from what I was able to determine, she was not insubordinate, she was kidnapped," Snape ventured, stupidly.

Voldemort's heartless, red eyes narrowed in anger, "I will determine that. Guilty until proven innocent is what I say. For now, it appears to be as if she willingly went with Dumbledore without so much as a fight."

"She was a little girl, with no magical training, and no wand. She was weakened by the surgeries –"

"Crucio!" Voldemort cried. He laughed at Severus's pain. His mirthless, cruel, high pitched laugh sounded out over the empty grave yard, mixing with Snape's screams of pain. As Severus had twisted and writhed, Voldemort hissed, "Do not presume to tell me the way of things, Severus. As of now, you are defending a traitor; and if what claim proves true, well then, you will soon be bringing me a second spy, which means you could become expendable _very_ soon. Now behave."

He lifted the curse, demanding Severus bring him Olivia within the week. Severus had barely had the strength to pull himself up off the ground, but he had left as soon as possible. He did not want to give the Dark Lord the chance to decide his torture was not yet done.

Apparating had been a very terrible idea. His concentration faltered half way through, and when he had appeared in Hogsmeade, he had only been conscious long enough to know that he was in terrible shape and needed medical treatment immediately. As he fell forward, his consciousness fading, he hoped somebody would come across him and help him before it was too late. He thought hopelessly that if he died, he would never see Olivia again. But, as darkness engulfed him, some cowardly part of his mind thought at least he would never have to take responsibility for his crimes against her.

Three days later he woke up in the hospital wing, having learned that he had splinched off most of his right leg. Between that, and the after effects of the torture, he was probably lucky to be alive. Nevertheless, Madame Pomfrey was able to heal him completely; although Severus had to endure entirely too much disapproving tongue clucking as she went about her business.

It took two more days before Madame Pomfrey would even hear of Snape getting out of bed; and it took yet another two days before Snape felt strong enough to travel to America – where he was going to find Olivia.

Why Dumbledore was making him go, rather than going himself, was beyond Severus. The old man obviously had a reason for it, but it was not a reason he felt the need to share. They had argued over the arrangement for nearly an hour, but Dumbledore always got his way, which was why Severus was currently packing his bag.

Snape packed angrily. He threw several black pairs of pants and several black button down shirts into his suitcase with completely unnecessary force. He would not be able to wear his infamous billowing robes in the muggle city, so he did not bother packing them. Besides attracting attention, it would be summer in New York, and likely to be stifling. It was yet another reason he did not want to go. Summer was not Snape's season of choice, to say the least. Then again nothing in this situation was really Snape's choice – the season was probably the least of his problems.

Dumbledore had asked Snape to come by his office one more time before he left, and while Snape had initially agreed, he had since decided against that. He felt no need to inform Dumbledore of his changing plans. The Headmaster had gotten everything he wanted, with little regard to what Snape desired; this small act of defiance was disproportionately satisfying, especially with Dumbledore's nagging words still ringing in the back of Snape's mind.

"Wants are small matters compared to needs," Dumbledore had said, "In times like these, needs will always cast a shadow over what we want. Sacrifice, Severus, is what wins wars."

"Stupid twit," Snape hissed, whipping several pairs of socks into his suitcase. Snape could not handle the Headmaster and his eloquently worded manipulations any longer. Snape did not want to go to New York, he did not want to drag Olivia into this mess, yet here he was doing it, Merlin knew why. His loyalties to the Headmaster were baffling sometimes.

The entire reason Snape had come over to the 'light' was because of Olivia. That little girl had warmed his cold, frozen heart and made him realize that the shadows were not where he belonged. He did everything he could to grant her freedom, to atone for his mistakes and to vanquish Voldemort for her. And now, here he was, bringing her back into the middle of everything.

Snape knew Dumbledore was right. Olivia would be a huge asset in the war. If the experiments forced upon her by Voldemort were still successful, her powers would be unmatched. According to Dumbledore, the experiments, while horrific, had been very successful. In addition, a second spy would be undeniably useful. Olivia deserved revenge, and it was not right of him to try to keep that from her. But he felt an almost a protective fatherly need over her, and dragging her into the middle of a war went against those instincts.

_You're not her father,_ he thought to himself, _you have no right to make any decisions for her. _

Indeed, Severus was not her father. Lord Voldemort was.

Olivia had been born because Voldemort was researching biological magic – magic that was based upon a person's genetic make-up. This magic was incredibly dark, but that of course meant nothing to Voldemort. He was looking for a way to enhance the magic that ran through his very blood, but he would of course never experiment on himself. Instead he had repeatedly raped several captive muggle-born witches until one of them gave him a child. He then killed the lot of them, save the mother, whom he tasked with raising the child until she was old enough be experimented on. Olivia had never seen the outside of that dungeon cell until she was nearly 2 years old.

At that point, Voldemort had killed her mother and commenced the experiments. It was seven years before Severus joined the ranks. Olivia had fended for herself that entire time. Severus barely knew of all that she had to endure. She had never really talked about it.

Severus had joined the Death Eaters directly after he graduated from Hogwarts. Voldemort was eager to put his skills to work, especially in the experiments regarding Olivia. When Snape had met Olivia she did not even have a name. She never spoke and barely ate. She wore a dirty nightgown that made house elf garments look extravagant, and she looked as if she had never been given a bath in her life time. Every time Snape had approached her, regardless of the reason, she would jump, silent tears streaming down her face, cutting tracks through the layers of dirt that smudged her face. She hardly made a noise, though, no matter what he did to her. She had obviously been trained to stay quiet.

Every time he saw her, she had new bruises and cuts or broken bones or something worse. He learned that the Death Eaters liked to play a game where they competed to see who could get her to scream to first. Sometimes her injuries were so extensive she would hardly be able to move. Her tiny body was already covered in scars before she had even reached the age of 10. She rarely met Severus's eyes, but she seemed to trust him a bit more than any of the other Death Eaters, probably because he never raised a wand against her - although, maybe trust was too strong of a word. Just because she did not wet herself when he walked in the room, or convulse with fear induced shivers when he approached her, did not mean that she trusted him.

When Severus secretly started healing some of her more serious injuries, that was when the real trust had actually started forming. She had been so young, but her eyes had held so much. As she started to meet his eyes more and more, Snape found that she could read him in an instant. Perhaps it was an instinct she had needed to pick up. She was liable to be tortured any time she annoyed somebody; she needed to be able to read what people wanted so she could give that to them. So young and so little, and yet she had needed to learn survival. It made Severus feel sick; and it was that realization that initially made Severus doubt his decision to join the Death Eaters.

When it came time for the big experiment, Snape feared she would not survive the surgery. It wasn't that he cared that her death would mean the ruin of his experiments; he was actually worried about her, not that he would ever admit that to Voldemort.

He told the Dark Lord that people needed to stop harming her; she needed rest and a real bed. Severus also began bathing her regularly, claiming that for surgery, things would need to be clean less she risk infection and death. He taught her to comb her hair and rinse her nightgown.

More so than all of that that, however, was the fact that she needed nourishment. He could not get her to eat anything, no matter what he brought her. He would bring her sweets, sandwiches, fruits, vegetables – she would barely touch anything. Until one day, he brought her a salad, and she picked the olives out. The next day he brought her a jar of olives, and she finished the entire jar within minutes. He began bribing her to eat other things with olives, and he soon found himself calling her Olive as if it were her name.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" she had whispered one day, her voice was surprisingly clear and bright. It was the first time she had ever spoken to him.

He had looked at her shocked, and she had visibly paled. She covered her mouth with her hand, looking terrified that she had spoken.

"Don't be scared," he said, quickly, "I won't hurt you. You're allowed to talk to me."

She shook her head no, backing away into the corner of the room. They were in his lab. He had taken to letting her stay in there while he worked. He claimed to be running various tests on her, but really it kept her safe from the other Death Eaters and it was better than the cold, stone cellar she was forced to stay in otherwise.

"You want to know why I call you Olive?" he asked

She looked at him, doubt in her eyes. She looked as though she thought he was trying to trick her, and she stayed silent.

"I don't know your name," he continued, "So I gave you a nickname."

She still did not answer, so Snape had gone back to work. Several minutes later she said, "I don't have one."

He looked at her confused, she clarified, "I don't have name. The bad men say I don't deserve one because I'm not a real girl."

"You're a real girl," Snape replied, "And it looks like now you have a real name – Olive. It can be short for Olivia."

"Olivia," she whispered, she looked almost excited, "it's pretty. Do I have two names? I know some of the bad men have two different names."

"Two names?" Snaped asked confused, "Oh, you mean like a first and a last name?"

"I don't know," Olivia replied, her excitement shriveling. She looked embarrassed and also fearful, like maybe she had asked for too much.

"People usually have a first and a last name. My first name is Severus and my last name is Snape. My full name is Severus Snape."

"So, do I get a last name too?" she asked, shyly. She was picking at the hem of the dirty nightgown nervously.

"Of course, why don't we pick one together?"

"I don't know how," she said, "Do I pick another food that I like?"

"If you want, or you can pick something else that you like," Snape said.

"I don't know what I like," she said. She looked like she was thinking hard, "I like it when the bad men leave me alone, and I like it when you let me sit in here."

"What else do you like? There must be more," Severus said, a little disturbed. Any other ten year old girl would tell you they liked princesses or puppies, but he supposed she had never even been exposed to such things.

"I like you," Olivia said, shyly, "You're nice and you don't hurt me as much as the others."

Snape had no words for that, and when he stayed quiet she continued, "I like making things fly and making the lights appear."

"What do you mean?" asked Snape.

Olivia made a giant orb of light appear in her hand, "Isn't it pretty?" she asked, "And watch this, I can make it different colors."

Sure enough the orb changed colors, little sparks flying out of it. Snape was impressed; most 10 year olds could not do wandless magic like that with such control.

"That's very impressive magic for such a little girl," Snape said, kindly.

The light went out immediately, "That's magic? I'm not allowed to do magic, I'll get hurt if I do magic."

Her eyes were wide and fearful. Snape could see her hands trembling, and without thinking about it, he walked over to her and held her hands, "You will never get in trouble for using magic in front of me."

Eventually, because making lights was Olivia's favorite thing, she decided that should be her name. She wanted it to start with an O, however, so that both her names started with the same letter, just like Severus's two names. Olivia Olight.

After that conversation, their relationship had blossomed. She was unbelievably smart. She took to following him around his lab, or watching him brew potions, and he soon found himself teaching her things. She picked up everything so quickly. He taught her to read in write in what felt like no time at all, and she picked up numbers and math even faster. Soon, he was smuggling books into the lab for her to read while he worked. She had a thirst for knowledge, and for some reason, it made Severus proud.

They bonded rapidly, much to Severus horror. He was growing attached to her, and that was not something that somebody who serves the Dark Lord should be doing. You do not grow attached to the experimental subject. He was a Death Eater, he was not supposed to have feelings like that. But it was becoming difficult to remember why he had joined the Death Eaters in the first place.

He had fully recognized that he cared for her at that point, and yet, he still went through with the surgeries. The pain she was in after each one was horrendous. And he had done that to her. He had betrayed her. He hated himself, and he hated even more that he did not have the strength to tell her that he was the one that had performed the surgeries. He was the one that had ruined her and lied to her.

He was, and still is, a coward.

Snape slammed his suitcase shut, while also consciously cutting of his line of thought. He had not thought about Olivia this much in a long time. He did not want to remember how broken that little girl had been. In fact, he usually made a point of pushing her from his mind if she happened to pop up in his thoughts. She had come so far. In the several months after she had been rescued, she had blossomed – and then Dumbledore had moved her to America for her own safety. Snape had never gone to visit her, the guilt of what he had done always holding him back. He had abandoned her. Sometimes he wondered about the woman she had become. She was in her mid-twenties now, hardly a little girl.

This was not going to be an easy trip, but it needed to be done. He had to face her. Besides, he also needed to get away from here – from the place where people either hated him because they thought he was a 'greasy old bat' or only cared about him because of the services he could perform for them. New York would have been the last place on earth he would visit if the decision were up to him, but at least it was better than here.

With that thought, he shrunk down his luggage so it would fit in his pocket, and then grabbed the port key that had been sitting upon his bed side table.

"To America," he whispered, _and Olivia_ he thought, as he tapped the port key with his wand and felt that familiar tug behind his naval. There was no going back.

**Reviews and comments always appreciated! **

_**Obviously, the characters and world of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling...I'm just borrowing them. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter 3! You'll finally meet Olivia. Hope you enjoy!**

The port key landed Snape in a dark alley. A smelly dumpster overflowing with garbage was the first thing to greet him, and it seemed appropriate considering the picture Severus had of New York City in his mind's eye. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Snape walked out of the alley, onto the streets of Manhattan.

The buildings towered over him, enclosing him in a way that was vastly different than the open air provided by the Hogwart's grounds. Even for somebody who spent most of his time in a dungeon, the city seemed far too claustrophobic for his personal preference. The hot, wet, humid heat of mid-June's summer did not help the matter.

He paused, thinking about where he needed to go. He would need to find a place to stay; he would be here a couple days at least.

Although his deadline for bringing Olivia to Lord Voldemort was fast approaching, Snape had no desire to rush his approach of her. He needed time to watch her, to learn about her. He needed time to mentally prepare himself for actually speaking to her. The girl he used to know so intimately was now a young woman that he knew nothing about. The little girl, covered in cuts and bruises, always wearing that dirty nightgown, surely did not exist any longer.

According to Dumbledore, Olivia was now a very successful research scientist – in the muggle world. Despite her prodigious magical skill, once she had finished at the Cracken School for the Magically Gifted, the premiere magical school in the Eastern United States of America, Olivia had abandoned any sort of magical career to enroll in muggle schools. She graduated Princeton, an apparently highly regarded muggle university, in less than two years, and obtained her doctorate in the biomedical sciences just 3 years after that. During that time, she had also obtained two separate master degrees, in chemistry and physics.

After that, she had gone back to the magical world and apprenticed both with a Potion's Master and with an expert in Magical Theory and Research, who specialized in magical self-defense. She had finished both apprenticeships in less two years, while working at them simultaneously. For most witches and wizards, it took four years to just finish one.

At 25, Olivia was more accomplished than most people in both the wizard and muggle world. Severus was almost intimidated by her. Their relationship had blossomed all those years ago because Olivia had needed somebody to help her, and Severus had gladly taken that job. Olivia obviously did not need anyone to help her these days. She seemed fiercely independent, and very successful. She had obviously inherited her father's intelligence, and, luckily, none of his malice, as far as Severus knew, at least.

Since her apprenticeships, Olivia had taken up a muggle research position at a medical university in the city. Apparently she was very good at her job, and her name was well known in research circles across muggle America. People went to her with questions because she was the expert, despite being so young.

Severus wondered why she would ever abandon her life here to go fight in a war she could altogether avoid if she wanted to. She had no life in Great Britain, no connections. What would she even be fighting for? There was no reason for her to come back. She had built a life here, and a successful one at that, she would not abandon it, and risk death, for no reason at all. Nobody would.

Severus heaved an annoyed sigh. If he was correct, it would mean this trip had been completely pointless. Perhaps more importantly, if Severus was correct about Olivia not coming back with him, it would mean his certain death. Severus had promised to bring Olivia to Lord Voldemort. To not deliver on a promise to the Dark Lord was akin to suicide. He supposed that was a problem for tomorrow, however.

Snape set off, making his way to Times Square. Luckily, the port key had dropped him off relatively close, so the walk did not take long. Once in Times Square, he made his way into a small alley next to a muggle chain restaurant he was not familiar with. The alley was not noticeable to most of the muggles walking by. Their eyes would slip by it, unconsciously, drawn in by the glowing lights and cluttered windows of the neighboring stores, not to mention a fair bit of magic. New York City was one of the most populous cities in the world; and it actually housed the largest population of witches and wizards in the world.

Snape took out his wand, and tapped on the brick marked with a star at the very end of the alley. Very slowly, the alley way opened up into a street that looked very much like Times Square, yet it was lined with obviously wizarding shops, as opposed to the mundane muggle stores Severus had just walked by. Various store front signs advertised the sales of everything from cauldrons to broomsticks.

At the end of the block was a very large hotel, of a much higher caliber than the Leaky Cauldron back in Diagon Alley. Severus booked himself a room there and tried to settle into bed. After tossing and turning for nearly an hour, he finally forced himself to take a sleeping potion he had brought with him.

As he finally fell asleep, he convinced himself that he only had trouble sleeping because of the time change, and certainly not because he was nervous about having to see Olivia tomorrow.

Although a lie, it was a lie he preferred to believe. Nevertheless, it was not a lie he could escape while asleep. He had dreams about Olivia all night long. His subconscious played at various ways in which his meeting with Olivia could go horribly wrong the next day. In some dreams, she was so angry at him for abandoning her that she cursed him into oblivion; whereas in others she did not even remember who he was. Needless to say, Snape did not sleep well that night.

He awoke the next morning to find an owl hooting impatiently on his window sill. Snape blinked blearily at the bird, still not fully awake. Seeing his open eyes, however, the bird hooted loudly, too loudly for Snape this soon after waking, and flew onto Severus's chest. Snape removed the letter with clumsy fingers, still stiff from sleep.

The bird flew off with a rustling of feathers the moment Snape had detached the note, and as Snape finally noticed the tight, cursive handwriting across the front of the letter, he let off an annoyed groan.

The letter was from Albus. The old man must have paid a fortune to have the letter delivered not even a day after Severus had arrived here. Overnight delivery was impossible for an owl if it had to fly across the entire Atlantic Ocean. Albus must have had to pay a pocket full of galleons for a magical mailman to travel by port key to America, so as to reach an owl able to deliver the letter in the desired time period. Obviously the Albus had something important to say, probably whatever he had wanted to share during the meeting that Severus had decided not to go to. But Snape had no desire to the read the letter. The envelope felt heavy, which means Albus had written a lot.

Snape threw the letter on the bedside table, deciding he would deal with it later. He showered and then pulled on a black pair of slacks and a plain black, long-sleeved, button down shirt. It seemed too hot for a long sleeved shirt, but Severus did not like to walk around with his dark mark out, even in the muggle world. It was barely 7:30 in the morning and it was already near 85 degrees, as Snape could tell with a swish of his wand, but he would just have to deal with the heat. A well timed cooling charm would definitely be appreciated today.

As he left the Wizarding Time Square, he decided to find some coffee – after such a restless night of sleep, he was feeling the time change quite acutely. Really, he wanted tea, but being in America, he decided to do as the Americans do. He found a coffee cart, and ordered a cup.

Drinking coffee, as opposed to tea, was about as adventurous as he would get. He absolutely drew the line at putting ice in his coffee. The idea was ridiculous, no matter how hot the weather. He also refused sugar and milk. He doubted anyone would be surprised to learn that he preferred his coffee black.

As he sipped on the steaming beverage, he made his way to the university he knew Olivia was working at. Today she was going to be giving a lecture at 9 am. Dumbledore had found this out from contacts he had in New York City, which were placed there specifically to keep an eye on Olivia. Snape wondered if she knew this; he thought probably not.

It was an old trick of Dumbledore's, and certainly one of his favorites. Potter had several people watching him this summer, without even knowing it, including his aged squib of a neighbor, Mrs. Figg, who Dumbledore had placed there ever since Harry had been moved in with his aunt and uncle. Dumbledore knew everything because Dumbledore made sure he was well connected, even if it meant invading people's privacy – a lesson Severus had long ago learned.

Severus arrived outside the university at 8:15, and felt as if it was far too early to arrive for the presentation. What if she was in the speaking room preparing, and he was alone with her? He wasn't ready for that yet. He wanted a chance to observe her anonymously first.

He decided he would find another cup of coffee.

Luckily, Severus found a coffee shop around the corner. It was small, and full of people sitting at tiny tables, some chatting quietly with friends, or others sitting alone reading a book or the newspaper. He stopped several feet away from the counter – the menu up on the wall had an overwhelming amount of choices.

Macchiatos, lattes, cappuccinos – didn't this blasted place have just regular coffee?

"Can I help you?" the barista asked.

Severus fixed her with the most withering look he could manage, "You can when I am ready," he said snidely.

She nodded, mutely, looking afraid. Severus stared at the menu for several long moments, wondering how foolish he would look if he just ordered plain coffee, and thinking it ridiculous that he should even care how he appears.

"Overwhelming, isn't it?" said a voice to his right.

He looked around find a very pretty brunette staring at him. He was surprised by the immediate attraction he felt towards this young lady. He had not dealt with things as menial as 'attraction' for a long while – he did not have the time for it. Between teaching snot nosed kids, and his highly valued summers alone at Spinner's End, Severus did not have time to date women. If he was not busy as a spy, he was busy brooding, and brooding was best done alone. If he had physical urges, it was easy enough to find, or pay, a wench to take care of those needs in a single night. But they were simple human needs, and attraction rarely played a part in that.

"Pardon?" he said to her.

"Ah, an English bloke," the girl noted, "Always loved the accent."

"I would say it is you afflicted with an accent, not I," Snape countered.

"You're in America, my friend. Around here, you're the one with the accent," the girl replied, laughing.

She had dark, chocolate eyes which seemed to draw Severus in. He did not usually like talking to people, but he did find this girl – perhaps he should say woman – more tolerable than most. Still, he was on a tight schedule, and did not have time for meaningless small talk. He hoped if he ignored her, she would just leave him alone.

"You new to town?" she asked, when Severus made no further remark.

"You talk quite a bit," Severus commented, thinking if this attractive girl kept bothering him with meaningless chit-chat, she would soon become very unattractive.

"Well, you're holding up the line contemplating your options, figured I might as well entertain myself. I want to solve the mystery of why it takes the mysterious, dark English bloke 87 years and a day to order a drink."

"You're endless blabbering makes it difficult for me to decide what I want."

She laughed again, "Endless blabbering? Really? That phrase can only be taken seriously when said with an English accent, if you don't mind me saying."

"I do mind, actually. In fact, I really wish you would not say anything at all," Snape answered.

"Fine by me," she replied, "But if you're still contemplating, I hope you don't mind if I cut in front of you."

She didn't wait for an answer, but walked around him and began chatting with the barista. _Annoying chit_, Severus thought, although perhaps he was more annoyed that he was still interested in her even after she insulted him _and _cut in front of him.

_She has nice legs, _he thought, taking them in appreciatively as she leaned over the counter. She wore a summer dress which rode up favorably the further she leaned. _Stop looking at _her, he commanded himself, _you're here for a purpose, not to just chase women around_.

Severus had always liked the brashness of American girls. The few that he had met in the past could put up with his snarky attitude, but there was something different about this girl, something more to her that drew him in – and that remarkably shaped ass was an added bonus.

_Stop staring at her ass!_ He demanded of himself. _Honestly, you would think I was a hormonal Gryffindor!_

As she paid, and turned around from the counter, she handed Severus a cup, "Coffee, black," she said smiling sweetly, "Very easy to order if you just ask, but perhaps you were too busy staring at my ass."

Snape tried to think of an insult to hurl back at this girl, but before the his mind could catch up to the conversation, she had winked and walked out the door. How had she known he was looking at her ass and how had she known what he wanted to drink?

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, as he looked at his watch. Olivia's presentation started in just 20 minutes. He made his way back to the university. As he entered the building, a security guard asked to see his ID. A simple confundus charm was all Severus needed to get by. As he walked into the main lobby, however, he realized he had no idea where to go.

Luckily for him, a large notice board adorned the far wall, upon which he saw a large poster advertising Olivia's talk.

**Novel insights into innate immunity – Departmental Works in Progress**

_DCs in Disease – Dr. Jonathan Promart_

_Neutrophils and Wound Healing – Dr. Brad Rawl_

_The Duality of Macrophages - Dr. Olivia Olight_

Monday, June 26, 9 am

It seemed Olivia was not going to be the only person speaking today, which was unfortunate. Severus certainly did not care to hear these other worthless nobodies talk, but if it was the price to pay for seeing Olivia, so be it. The bottom of the poster gave Severus all the information on the location of the talk. It would take place in a lecture hall on the 19th floor of the building.

He arrived with ten minutes to spare, and found a seat close to the back. The room was already nearly full, and if Olivia was already in the room, he had not seen her, or perhaps he had not recognized her. Still, he found himself inexplicably nervous that she would be in this very room with him.

He watched the first two speakers drone on in a frustrated boredom. Each one was introduced for nearly 5 minutes, their endlessly boring muggle accomplishments hashed out from every angle possible. Listening to that had been painful enough, but for the pompous asses to then stand up and talk about their work as if was going to save the world was hard to swallow. Severus passed the time by imagining several different curses he would love to inflict upon these men.

Finally, the second speaker was finished up his talk by endlessly thanking everyone he had ever come into contact with. Severus sat up a little straighter, Olivia would be introduced next. He would finally see her.

He was immensely surprised when the girl from the coffee shop stood up in the front row. She walked to the podium with a calm ease. So this girl knew Olivia? At least well enough to introduce her, anyway. He replayed their conversation in his mind, trying to gleam what he could from it. What kind of person would Olivia be if she were friends with this person…and was it disturbing that he had found this girl attractive? If she was Olivia's friends, surely he should not be having such thoughts – surely his eyes should not be glued to her breasts at this very moment. He had to get a grip over himself.

"Hello, everyone," said the girl, "And thank you for sticking around to hear me speak. It is quite an honor to be sharing a session with both Dr. Promart and Dr. Rawl."

Severus stared intently at this girl, confused. He wasn't here to listen to her speak, he wanted to see Olivia.

"Now my accomplishments are nowhere near as profound as the speakers before me, so I won't bore you with a list of my menial accomplishments, rather I'll just introduce myself. My name is Dr. Olivia Olight, and I'm hoping my research will speak for itself."

Severus felt his stomach twist tightly in on itself with shock. This girl, the girl he had _talked_ to in the coffee shop, was Olivia? How was that possible? A second later, as he came to terms with the realization, his stomach seemed to unclench and roll with nausea. He had found Olivia attractive? The little, tortured girl he had felt like a father towards…he had been attracted to her, he had stared lecherously at her, he had briefly thought of all the things he would love to do to her, things that had set his groin stirring in a way that it had not in a long time.

Severus felt sick, he needed to leave the room immediately. But he stayed glued to his chair. He watched her numbly as she spoke. She was confident, well-spoken and… beautiful.

He nearly smacked himself in the face – he could not think of her as beautiful, he would not. His self-disgust had completely withered his initial attraction; that much was sure. So long as he remembered her as the scared little girl, he could never see her as the woman she had clearly blossomed in to. She was Olive – just Olive – and he was here to get her to join a war that would probably get her killed.

Severus sat completely stunned, lost in his own thoughts for the first 15 minutes of her talk. He barely heard a word she said, but he watched her intently. Every moment he urged himself to leave, to run, but he could not bring himself to stand out of his chair.

Finally, her talk ended, and after several questions from the crowd, people began exiting. Severus quickly hurried from the room, not sure what his next move would be. He found a men's room down the hall, and ducked inside. He went and splashed some water on his face, his mind flying through thoughts at a rapid speed, but ultimately figuring nothing out.

He wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her, but he did not feel ready yet – especially since he was still sorting through those initial, impure thoughts he had of her. Perhaps he would take the night and then come back tomorrow. Yes, that sounded like a good idea to him. Tomorrow he would tell her everything she needed to know. Tomorrow he would be able to face her.

He left the bathroom, and was glad to see the hall was empty. It seemed that everyone from the talk had left. All that surrounded him was blessed silence. As he waited for the elevator, he thought about how he could not wait to get back to the hotel and think; and how he dearly hoped this muggle created mechanical box would successfully get him to the ground floor in one piece. He had ridden it once on the way up, and to take it a second time seemed like a risky temp of fate.

When the elevator finally arrived, Severus had boarded without looking around. So caught up in his thoughts, he was severely startled when somebody thrust their hand through the closing doors just in time to be able to board themselves.

"Phew! Almost missed it!" said the girl as she squeezed through the door. Her face lit with recognition on seeing Snape, "Well look who it is, Mr. Black Coffee."

_Merlin's saggy balls!_ Thought Severus. He watched in shock as the elevator doors closed, leaving him alone and trapped with Olivia, of all people, far before he was ready to be alone with her.

"Still not very talkative, I see," Olivia said, teasing.

"Still annoyingly chatty, I see," Snape countered.

Olivia laughed, "I'm actually a pretty reserved person, but there is something about you that makes me chatty."

Snape smiled at her, a forced smile, but he gave it his best effort. His mind was caught reminiscing about how he had actually been one of the first people to drag conversation out of her, back when she was still a prisoner to Lord Voldemort.

He looked closely at her. It was striking to see her all grown up. She had grown her hair out to the middle of her back. It was long and dark brown, similar in color to her chocolate brown eyes. Her skin was fair, with a healthy blush. Severus realized with astounding clarity, that she looked like Tom Riddle's daughter. The resemblance was there – she was as beautiful as he was handsome (at least before his dramatic transformation). The only difference was in the eyes. Hers were kind, and a bit haunted, where as his had always been cold and deadly.

She smiled at him, nervously, "Do I have something on my face? Or do you just like to stare until people feel uncomfortable. If the later, I can assure you, you have succeeded."

"What? Oh no, sorry, didn't mean to stare," Snape said, trying to look away from her.

Severus realized her smile was much different than her father's as well. Whereas Tom Riddle's smile never seemed genuine, Olivia's seemed to light up her entire face, even when she was feeling nervous. She may look like her father, but Snape could tell she was not anything like him. It warmed his heart the tiniest bit to know that Olivia had, at least partly, escaped her dark past. She at least knew how to smile genuinely.

The elevator stopped at floor five, and Olivia made to get out. Snape, without even thinking about it, blocked her way.

"You really are odd, aren't you?" she asked, giving him a strange look.

"I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?"

"What, now?" she asked, looking confused.

"Yes, now," Snape replied.

"You just stood staring at me for a good 30 seconds without saying a single word - do you need longer to creep me out or something?"

"No, I need to speak with you, in private…not here," he said, fidgeting a bit. This was not going as well as he had hoped.

"And an empty elevator had not been private enough?" she asked, giving him a searching look. When he shook his head she asked, "What is this about?"

"An important, private matter," he said, simply.

"Are you going to try to sell me something, because I'm getting really tired –"

"I'm not trying to sell you anything, Olive," Snape snapped. He took a calming breath and said more patiently, "I just need to speak with you."

She gave him a strange look, considering him. After several long moments, in which the elevator doors tried repeatedly, and awkwardly, to close upon Severus, she said, "Ok fine. I have some time now, if you don't mind following me."

He nodded and she gave him a tight smile. He was obviously behaving strange, and she was picking up on that, but there was nothing for it now. She would understand soon enough.

He followed her down a labyrinth of hallways. They were quiet, although she looked at him occasionally. He wondered if she would realize who he was, but he never saw recognition cross her features.

Snape was idly wondering if he should strike up a conversation, when his dark mark suddenly burned red hot under his shirt sleeve. It was a strange feeling, completely different than it normally felt when the Dark Lord called for him. He wondered if the larger than normal distance between himself and Voldemort was the cause. He grabbed at the mark, applying pressure to relieve the burning; all the while hoping Olivia did not notice him acting even stranger. If she had, she gave no indication. Finally, they came to a door that led them into a very large laboratory space.

"Liv! Thank God," said a girl, as Olivia walked in, "Can you double check these calculations?"

Olivia gave Snape an apologetic look before taking the girls notebook and peering at it.

"Whose the hunk?" the girl asked, staring at Snape.

"Control your hormones, Betsy," Olivia said, without looking up from the calculations.

Betsy winked at Snape, and he felt distinctly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, trying to look anywhere besides this Betsy person.

"This is wrong, Betsy. The protocol calls for micrograms, not milligrams. You're off by a factor of 1000."

Betsy cursed under her breath, "Thanks, Liv! Glad you caught that, or it would have been three weeks of work ruined!" Betsy said, as she made her way back to the lab bench she was working at.

"Wait, have you seen Chuck?" Olivia asked Betsy's retreating form.

Betsy turned back towards them, "Nah, he emailed everyone this morning saying any questions should be directed to you."

Olivia rolled her eyes, "God forbid that man actually come to work and run _his _lab."

"Why should he when he has you to do all the work?" Betsy quipped.

"Right, well, I'll be in a meeting for a bit, so please don't let anyone disturb me," Olivia said. Betsy assented, and gave Snape one last wink.

Olivia merely rolled her eyes, and led Snape towards the back corner of the lab. There was a door there with her name on it. She led him inside, and offered him a seat.

As he sat down, Snape felt the strangest sensation run through his body, and he fell roughly into the chair. In the next moment, he realized he could not move. His eyes darted wildly around, finally coming to rest on Olivia, who stood in front of him, across the desk, she was calm, but the look on her face was cold and calculating.

"Full body bind," she said, simply.

She held up her hand and Snape's wand flew from his pocket directly into her grasp. Into her other hand flew her own wand from a desk drawer. She pointed this directly at his heart.

"Who are you?" she demanded, "And what does a marked death eater want with me?"

Snape did not understand how she could have known he wore the dark mark, and then he remembered that strange sensation he had felt in the hallway. It had not been Lord Voldemort calling to him. Olivia must have designed a spell to reveal that particular kind of dark magic.

"Please, you know me. I'm Severus, Severus Snape."

Olivia's eyes grew wide, and then confused, and finally settled on anger.

"Severus Snape is dead," Olivia hissed, "I heard it directly from Albus Dumbledore himself. Now, lie to me again, and I will kill you, without even giving it a second thought."

Severus paled. He could see the seriousness of her threat written all over her face. She would kill him if she thought he lied.

But why had Dumbledore told her that he had died?

Suddenly, Snape wished quite desperately that he had not skipped out on that meeting he was supposed to have with Dumbledore, or at the very least, he had read that letter currently sitting unopened on his bedside table.

**Reviews and comments always appreciated!**

_**Obviously, the characters and world of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling...I'm just borrowing them. :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoy! _

* * *

_"Severus Snape is dead," Olivia hissed, "I heard it directly from Albus Dumbledore himself. Now, lie to me again, and I will kill you, without even giving it a second thought."_

"Olive, please – hear me out," Snape said, tentatively.

"Don't call me that!" Her wand was pointing directly at his heart. Her face was a mask of utter and complete rage.

"But I always called you Olive…"

"No, you didn't - Rus did. Rus is dead".

Severus heart seemed to clench in his chest. How had he forgotten that she used to call him Rus?

A flicker of doubt crossed Olivia's face. Her wand lowered just a fraction of an inch as she studied him, "Severus Snape is dead," she said, again. She seemed to want to confirm the fact to herself, more than him; and as she said it, her face became angry once again. She raised her wand up. Her resolve against trusting him aggravated him excessively.

"Do I look dead to you?" It took every sliver of self-control Snape possessed to keep an air of patience in his voice. He wanted to grab her, to shake her, to make her see that he was right here. More than anything, he wanted her to recognize him. To see him. How did Olivia not know it was him?

"What you look like hardly matters, you're a wizard. Appearances can be changed," she spat.

"Then ask me anything, and I will prove myself to you, since you are too obtuse to see the truth directly in front of you," Snape said.

She looked at him with rage, but he could see the doubt dancing in the back of her mind. She was searching for a trick, some form of deceit. It reminded him painfully of how shaky her trust had been when she had first met him – a time when she had been unsure if she could trust him not to hurt her like the others.

"What was the last thing Severus Snape ever said to me?" she asked.

"I believe I just told you 'then ask me anything, and I will prove myself to you'," Snape said, shortly, "So that would be the last thing I ever said to you."

His temper was getting the better of him. It wasn't that he could be angry at her for not believing him – she thought he was dead, after all. But he could be angry at Dumbledore, there was plenty of that anger to go around. He was also simply angry in general – this entire trip was such a farce, he could barely stand it. Of all the foreseeable complications, this was not one Snape ever prepared for. And if this trip failed, it would mean Severus life.

"You really want to play games with me right now?" Olivia asked.

"I make no play at any games. I was simply stating fact."

"You are certainly every bit the ass I remember Rus being," Olivia snapped.

"You don't remember me being an arse. You were eleven, you didn't even know the word arse."

"The Severus Snape I knew was short tempered and angry. He was an ass to anyone that annoyed him," Olivia spat back.

Snape felt his face blanch, and then felt heat rise in his face. He looked away from Olivia, hoping that if he wasn't looking at her, she wouldn't see his embarrassment. Is that what she had really thought about him? Severus had been sure they had some sort of relationship beyond just saving her life, but maybe he was just too big of an arrogant arse to realize she had not really liked him all those years ago.

He looked back at Olivia, who was studying him intently. He could tell she must have seen his reaction. Her eyes were narrowed, suspicious.

"Severus Snape was never overly annoyed by me," she said, "So we got along rather well. To me he was kind, funny and supportive. I was just saying that in general, Severus Snape was an ass. To me, he was…more. To me he was anything but an ass."

He gave her a short nod. An awkward silence stretched around the tiny office. Olivia never lowered her wand, and Severus, unsure what to say, just sat there. He could not think how to convince her, he could not think what to say.

"Perhaps you should leave," Olivia said, "Before I decide to kill you, that is. You aren't Rus, you can't be. You obviously were some sort of friend of his, however, judging by how flushed you got when I insulted him. I don't know who you are, but you should know I have some serious trust issues. You're a friend of Rus, fine, leave. That's my favor to you. But if you sit there like a stupid git much longer, I'll kill you just to be rid of you – I'm rather paranoid about strangers who carry the dark mark."

"You aren't a killer, Olive," Snape said quietly.

"You don't know me!" She actually stamped her foot in frustration.

"Do you remember Brown Bear?" Snape asked quietly.

At these words, Olivia seemed to recoil, as if struck. Her face blanched, "What?" she whispered.

"Brown Bear and Bouncing Bunny…do you remember them?"

She swallowed heavily, her eyes dancing across his face. Her wand lowered several inches.

"How do you know about that?" she asked.

"The tales of Brown Bear and Bouncing Bunny – they were the stories I used to tell you when you couldn't sleep, or when you were in a particularly large amount of pain."

"How do you know that? I never told anyone –"

"The story when Bouncing Bunny rescues Brown Bear stuck in the tree was your particular favorite," Snape pushed on.

"Brown Bear was always having to save Bouncing Bunny…it was nice that the roles were reversed for once. Bouncing Bunny had a lot of debt to pay to Brown Bear," Olivia said, distractedly. She was staring at Severus as if she had only just seen him.

"How do you know –" she stopped, her eyes snapped to his, and just the tiniest spark of hope was alight in them, "Let me see."

He did not need to ask what she meant – he knew. Snape nodded and lowered only parts of his occlumency shields – there were some memories he did not want even her to see.

Olivia walked around her desk and kneeled before him. She looked into his eyes, and for a second she only met them, as if searching for him there. In the next moment, she pushed past, straight into his mind, with an astounding strength.

Olivia truly was the daughter of the greatest legilimens to ever live. She pushed in effortlessly, and she peered around his occlumency shields as if they were not even there. He thought, perhaps, she was even better than her father at this.

He felt her amusement at this thought, but it was short lived. In the next second, he felt her burst into the back of his mind, as she looked at thoughts he would prefer she never saw.

_Severus, a little boy no more than 5, hiding under his bed as his parents screamed at one another. __**Fear.**_

_Severus, 10 years old, and clutching at a bed post while his father whipped him with a belt. His mothered watched, pretending she did not see. __**Pain. Betrayal.**_

_Severus and Lily, on the Hogwarts express. He felt so proud to be talking to her, so happy to be getting away from his parents. __**Joy.**_

_Severus trying to beg forgiveness from Lily, her refusing him. __**Shame.**_

_Severus, looking at Lily in the great hall with Potter, wondering if he ever really loved her, or loved the idea of somebody liking him for once. __**Loneliness.**_

Severus threw up his occlumency shields with all the strength he possessed, as he railed against Olivia with his anger at her intrusiveness. He felt her apology, and her patience, as she waited for what he wanted to show her.

_Severus talking to Lucius Malfoy, who was trying to convince him to join with the Death Eaters. Lucius was saying that his skills would be an asset, that Snape would have a place he belonged. Severus agreed, reluctantly. __**Desire to belong, fear of it being at too great a price.**_

_Severus, setting up his lab, and planning his experiments. __**Excitement.**_

_Severus, witnessing the Dark Lord torturing muggles for the first time. __**Fear. Hatred. Regret.**_

_Severus, meeting Olivia for the first time, and seeing how mistreated she had been. __**Outrage. Pity. **_

_Severus, hearing Olivia speaking for the first time. __**Joy.**_

_Severus, brushing Olivia's hair. __**Protective.**_

The next line of thought brought Severus to the surgeries he had performed on Olivia; the surgeries he regretted more than anything. He pushed those memories behind his occlumency shields with all the strength he possessed. He could not let her see, he could not have her hate him. But he felt the negative emotions from those memories leak out in his desperation. He was not clearing his mind as he should. In his panic, more memories and detached emotions came leaking out. His mind became hazy and jumbled. He felt the dull ache of intrusion, the sharp pain of things not being as they should. Memories began floating at the front of his mind, for Olivia to see.

_Severus, rescuing Olivia, knowing he would die for her if the need came. __**Duty.**__ And from somewhere, some other memory, a strong feeling of __**Resentment.**_

_A jumble of memories, Severus being tortured, Severus reading, Severus giving detention to Potter, Severus alone, sitting in the dark. __**Pain. Fear. Contentment. Anger. Despair. **_

_Severus, teaching Olivia, watching as she picked up her lessons quickly. __**Pride.**_

_Severus arguing with Dumbledore about not wanting to visit Olivia. __**Shame.**_

It was this last memory that she picked up on, that she probed deeper into. She dug into his memory, until it played back in his mind. She gripped and she did not let go, and Severus let out a moan of pain, as emotions from all he was desperate to keep hidden leaked into the memory in random places.

_"Olivia has asked for you several times now, Severus," Dumbledore said. __**Anger, contempt. Sadness.**_

_"I have no desire to see her," Snape answered, "She is free now, safe in America and taken care of, she no longer needs me to care for her." __**Depression. Anger. Shame. Hate. **_

"_She is still very much alone Severus, she needs you," Dumbledore had pressed. _

_"I did my duty. I did what you asked, can that not be enough? The damn girl needs to move on with her life, Albus, and she certainly doesn't need me in it." __**Duty. Love. Annoyance. Resentment.**_

_"Severus," Albus began. _

_"I want no part in her life any longer. Make my excuses if you must, tell her I'm dead even. I do not care, just leave me out of it all!" Severus stood up and strode from Dumbledore's office, cloak billowing behind him. As the door slammed behind him, he felt __**anger, betrayal, hurt, all-encompassing sadness. **_

Olivia pulled from his mind, and as Severus came to his senses he looked at her. He quickly realized that those last emotions, the anger, hurt and despair, had not been his own, but hers. The hurt that memory had caused was written across her face, plain as day.

She stood and walked back behind her desk. She faced away from him. Severus replayed what she had just seen in his mind, trying to understand. Everything had become so mixed up; emotions were falsely associated with memories in such a way it took even him a minute to recall how he had actually felt in certain situation.

That day, talking to Dumbledore, he had felt such hate for himself, such anger, that he could not bring himself to face her. But he had done wrong by her, horrible wrongs – how could he face her? She had been better off without him. Surely, she could see his love for her in that memory.

But then – perhaps not. With all the negative emotions that had been leaking form the memories he had sought to conceal, perhaps Olivia had interpreted that memory horribly, horribly wrong. If she had thought the resentment, the anger, the hate were pointed at her and the responsibility he felt for her…

"Olivia –" he began, but she held up her hand, and he held his tongue. She still faced away from him.

She turned slowly back around. Her face was blank, expressionless.

"Hello, Rus," she said flatly, "Been awhile."

"Olivia, that was not what it seemed," he said.

She looked at him, as if waiting for an explanation, but what could he possibly say without revealing that he had been concealing memories from her?

"I'd say it's been wonderful to see you, but that'd be a lie…I think you should leave," she said, in that same flat voice.

"Olivia, no please," he stood up and went to her.

He reached for her shoulder, but she pulled away, so he grabbed her wrist. The moment his skin touched hers, he felt it – the magic thrumming over the surface. He pulled his hand away quickly, afraid she meant to curse him. She seemed startled by his fear, but the understanding washed over her face, followed by hurt.

She gave a dead laugh, "It's just a glamour charm," she explained, "That's all you're feeling."

"For what?" he asked.

"Come on, Rus. You of all people know what was done to me," she gestured to herself. She was wearing a sun dress. It had short sleeves, and scooping neck line, and little daisies printed on a black background. "You really think I could wear an outfit like this without a glamour? People would flip out."

When Severus still looked confused, she swiped her hand in front of herself, removing the glamour. Snape gasped out loud. She was covered in crisscrossing scars, all over her bare skin. Some were thin and faint, others deep, wide and still pinkish.

More pronounced were the straight scars, deep and precise, that traced each bone in her arms and shoulders, marks of those horrific surgeries. Severus knew these scars would also trace along her ribs, sternum and spine. All from his doing. Only her face remained seemingly untouched, but Severus knew that just because there were no scars did not mean there was no damage. He had healed plenty of broken bones in her face when she was little.

"I had forgotten how serious your injuries had been," he whispered.

"Lucky you," she spat. She waved a hand over herself again, and now her outfit magically changed. She wore tight black jeans, with high black combo boots. Her shirt was long sleeved and grey, and also formed fitting, with just the slightest of v-necks to give it a feminine touch. It seemed glamour had once again covered the scar on her jaw, but with this outfit, Olivia needed considerably less glamour than before.

"Your magic, is it wandless?" Snape asked, knowing the answer already.

"No, the surgeries when I was younger worked," she said, she clenched and unclenched her fist, studying her hand intently.

Snape looked at her hand with curiosity. He knew Dumbledore had said the experiments were successful, but to actually see her doing magic with just her hands was astounding.

Lord Voldemort had designed experiments that would hopefully enhance a person's magic within their very body. Magic is produced by the body's cells, by certain genes specific to Wizards and Witches. Every cell produces magic, and it is with a wand that this magic can be harnessed and manipulated. Some Wizards and Witches have a certain proclivity for wandless magic, but it is limited.

Voldemort sought to make Olivia's very bones into wands. The bones of her fingers, hands and forearms had been hallowed, and within wand cores that she had been matched to had been inserted. The bones of her upper arms, shoulders, rib cage and spine had also been manipulated and hallowed, not to act as a wand to funnel magic, however. These bones had been manipulated to store magic, so that when she called upon a spell it would be all the more powerful.

Cells can only produce so much magic before they are saturated. That is why spells can only reach a certain strength. The thought with Olivia's surgery was that she would no longer just be calling upon the cellular reserve of magic, but a reserve of magic that was built up and unnaturally strong.

Voldemort had tried these surgeries on countless victims before Olivia - all had died from the trauma of it. It was one of the reason Snape felt so horrific for having performed the surgeries on her. She was the first and only he had worked on; and it could have gone so horribly wrong. He could have killed her – killed her when he was supposed to protect her.

"So, the surgeries really worked?" he asked

"I suppose," she said, and he did not miss the anger in her voice, "Of course growing was a rather painful experience, and I need a monthly bone strengthening potion to keep my bones from becoming too brittle, but I can perform some rather extraordinary magic."

"Fascinating," he muttered.

"Hardly," she spat, "There are many other flaws that far out weight the so called perks."

"Like what," he asked.

"Does it matter Rus? Seriously? What do you care?" She pushed past him, and headed towards the door of her office.

"Olivia, please wait," Snape said.

"No, Rus! I won't wait any longer. Whatever you needed you can just forget it."

"But –"

"NO! GET OUT, RUS! JUST GET THE FUCK OUT! "

She took a deep breath, "Stop standing there and acting like you care. If you want the results from the surgery, Dumbledore has plenty of fucking data. It's why he comes every year, to study me, like I'm some god damn lab rat."

"Olivia that's not why I'm here."

"I don't give a flying fuck why you're here. Just get the fuck away from me Rus. JUST GET THE FUCK AWAY."

Sparks flew from her hands, which had clenched into fists, "Shit," she muttered, taking deep breaths. She rubbed her hands together, as if they hurt.

He looked at her with concern, and she met his look with one of disgust, "Don't look at me like that. You were perfectly happy to stay out of my life before, don't bother breaking the habit."

She ripped open the office door behind her, only pausing to point a finger at him, and then she walked out. Severus felt the telltale cold signs of a disillusionment charm running over him, and looked down to see himself practically invisible.

He followed her out of his office, feeling the anger radiating off of her. That annoying dimwit, Betsy, hurried up to Olivia with purpose.

"Where did tall, dark and handsome go?" she asked, winking at Olivia.

"He left, a while ago," Olivia said, pushing past Betsy.

"Oh, I didn't see him go."

"There's a lot you don't notice, you witless dunderhead," Olivia muttered under her breath.

Snape would have normally laughed, but his mind was slowly panicking. He had managed to alienate Olivia, ruin the Order's chance at a second spy, and get himself killed all in the matter of minutes – for Voldemort would surely kill him when he showed up without Olivia, and Olivia most definitely did not seem in the mood to help him with anything.

Betsy's annoyingly high pitched voice interrupted his thoughts, "Anyway, Liv, I could really use your help with this mouse experiment I've been thinking of –"

Olivia whirled around on her, snarling, "How many god damn times do I have to tell you, Betsy? I. Don't. Experiment. On. Animals. Go find somebody else to help you."

Betsy looked stunned for just a second, and then got a knowing look in her eye, "Oh, did you have a lover's spat with that mysterious man?"

"God above!" Olivia exclaimed, seemingly unable to handle the other woman's daftness. She strode away, muttering. Snape followed closely behind her, his panic threatening to tear him apart at the seams.

"I'm here if you need to talk," Betsy called.

Olivia didn't answer. She burst out into the hallway, her strides quick and angry; Snape struggled to keep up with her. She made a bee line for the stairwell, and when she had assured herself that they were alone, she removed his disillusionment charm.

"I'm assuming you can find your way to the exit," she said, starting to climb the stairs. Snape made to follow her, "The exit would be downwards," she snarled at him.

"Olivia, I know you're angry. But you saw that memory in the completely wrong light. I care very deeply for you," he said.

"For fuck's sake, what the hell do you want Severus?"

"I just want you to know that what you saw –"

"I don't give a flying fuck about what I saw. I don't give a flying fuck about how you feel about me, or what your duty is or isn't to me. I don't give a flying fuck about our relationship – I don't give a fuck about _any_ of it. What I want to know is why you are here, after 15 years of cleanly cutting me out of your life. What the fuck do you want?"

"Gods above woman, you need to watch your language. You could hardly say fuck any more if you wanted to."

She sneered at him, shaking her head, "Fuck you," she said, and she started climbing the stairs again.

"Olivia, wait. I'm here because we need your help."

"Whose we?"

"Dumbledore, the Order, Harry Potter," Snape replied, counting on his fingers.

"And what exactly does this oh-so-fine group of people want from me?"

"Your father – Lord Voldemort –"

"Don't ever call him my father, he is _not_ my father," she spat, angrily.

"He's back, Olivia."

She stared at him, hard. When she saw the truth in his eyes, she looked around lost, as if the cold, blank walls of the stairwell would tell her what to think.

When they didn't, she sunk onto the stair, running a hand through her ponytail. She heaved a sigh, "What does that have to do with me?" she asked, finally.

"Everything," he answered.

"Really? Because I seem to find that it has absolutely nothing to do with me," she said.

"Your help is required."

She scoffed, "My help? MY help? I have no stake in Britain's magical world anymore; I have no stake in the magical world, period. I am practically a muggle. So you're gonna have to give me one good reason to leave my perfectly happy life behind, to go fight in a war that would most likely get me killed, all in the pathetic hopes of bringing down a man who apparently can't even be killed. You tell me why I should give up everything to face off against a man that would like to tie me down, experiment on me, torture me and then kill me."

"Dumbledore –"

"I don't give a fucking shit about Dumbledore."

"The Order –"

"Fuck your Order."

"Potter –"

"Never met him, don't give a fuck. Do you see the trend here? I don't give a fuck."

Severus was getting angry, and scared – and Severus Snape did not handle scared well. He was not supposed to be scared, to feel afraid. But without Olivia, he faced the prospect of his imminent death and he was not ready to face that as of yet.

He came to the side of light, because of how Olivia had affected him, because he wanted to do good. He felt as if he had hardly done anything, yet. The Dark Lord had not been vanquished, Olivia hated him, and now Severus would be dead. His fear mounted, and Severus Snape never knew how to handle fear well. So he squashed it down with an out pouring of rage directed at the only other person in the stairwell.

"Give up the high and mighty act," he roared, "You sit there, claiming I ask you to give up a wonderful life in order to go die a martyr to a cause you don't care for. It's utter shite! You're utter shite – full up to the brim!

"You asked me 'what was the last thing I ever told you before you left for America?' – I told you to be extraordinary. I said, 'I see an extraordinary girl, standing before me. I expect you to do extraordinary things and to become an extraordinary woman.' But what do I see before me? A complete and utter failure!

"You can do magic unlike anything ever seen before the history of magic, and you give it all up to hide in a muggle research laboratory, acting as if your research makes a difference. You're a dim witted chit if you think that the case. You sit here, hiding from the world you were meant to be a part of like a complete dunderhead. I told you to be extraordinary, and here you are sitting before me, a complete and utter waste of space. You are nothing but a failure with a proclivity for foul language – and you have a rather limited vocabulary at that."

He finished, with heaving breaths, staring daggers at her defiantly. He wanted to throw himself before her and beg apology. He had regretted the words even as they continued to stream through his mouth. He was too proud, however, so he held her gaze strongly, hoping she would break. She did not break.

Her face was blank, and cold as stone. Her eyes, hard and stabbing. She swallowed and said, "Well, now that you've gotten that off your chest, I suppose we should go our separate ways. Nice to see you again, Rus."

She stood up and started climbing the stairs.

"Olivia, please, I need your help. Without you…" he trailed off, "I hate to ask it of you, this should not be your war, but without you…I need you."

She paused, her foot on the next stair. Everything seemed to balance on the edge in that moment. Severus had begged, and he never begs.

"Fuck off, Rus," she said, and she began climbing again, never looking back at him. She reached the next landing, and pulled the door open. She went through, and the door slammed behind her. The noise echoed through the stairwell and Snape felt his heart disintegrate. Everything, all his hopes, his plans, had dived off the cliff, crash landed and burned. How had that gone so horribly, horribly wrong?

He made his way slowly back to his hotel. With his aimless wandering, it took him several hours to finally reach his room. He lay on the bed as the room darkened around him. He thought about finding a bottle of firewhiskey to down, but the idea held little appeal when he considered it further. Snape's father had been an alcoholic, after all. Snape generally disliked the idea of drinking for emotional reasons.

He wondered if he should stay in America. He could move to the west coast, and hide there forever. Perhaps Voldemort would not bother to look for him there. Perhaps he could be a free man…

He chuckled darkly to himself. He would never be a free man, no matter where he ran to. The Dark Lord would hunt him down, that was assured. And his end would be all the worse for running.

Eventually, as more dark thoughts swirled about his brain, he waved his wand to turn on the bedside lamp. He sat up, stiff and sore, wondering how long he had been laying there. That was when his eyes had fallen on the letter Dumbledore had sent.

He ripped it open angrily and read,

**Snape, **

**My boy! You ran off before we had a chance to talk. There were a couple things I needed to discuss with you, and I do hope this letter finds you in time. **

**First, you should be aware that Olivia has no idea that you are even still alive. Awkward, I admit, and it is truly my mistake, but it is a factor you need to consider nonetheless. When she was younger she became so depressed when you never showed up to visit with her, that I thought the lie might spare her. I admit, I made it in a moment of panic, and it was rather ill-advised. It hardly considered the possible ramifications, including the situations we find ourselves in now. Surely, you can think of a way to prove yourself, my boy. An old man's well-meaning sentiment should never be something that cannot be reversed.**

**Second, I never was able to discuss with you why it needed to be you who had to go to Olivia. You see, despite my visits with Olivia over the years, we have never developed an overly close bond. She believes I use her solely for research purposes because she has trouble comprehending the idea that people may be actually interested in just her. You are the exception my boy. You were, and I believe still are, her only friend. The only person she trusts (despite her thinking you are dead). I believe you are the only one Olivia would come back for, the only one she would make sacrifices for. Remember this when you are trying to convince her, and all should be well. **

** On that same note, you must recognize that Olivia would never come back for me, the order or harry. She owes no allegiance to us, and sees no reason to risk herself for us. So do not try to sway her with the cause, try to sway her with who you are. She will come back for you, I just know it. **

**Be careful, Severus, she is rather powerful. **

**Yours truly, **

**Albus Dumbledore**

Snape pushed the letter away, disgusted. So that was why he was here? So Olivia would feel compelled to help with the war effort out of some twisted life debt she owed him. It was just like Dumbledore to think that way, the manipulative bastard.

But, he had been wrong. Snape had begged Olivia to come back for him. Granted, he had said some truly horrible things to her by that point, but she certainly did not seemed swayed in the slightest by his pleas.

He vanished the letter with his wand, stripped down to his boxer briefs, and climbed into bed. He turned the light off with a swish of his wand, and made to sleep, but sleep never came. Rather, he lay in a puddle of vengeful and angry thoughts for nearly a half hour before a knock at his door interrupted him.

"What the bloody hell?" he mumbled.

Thinking the incompetent hotel staff must be trying to mistakenly deliver room service to him in the middle of the night, Snape did not even bother dressing before he swung the door open forcefully, a full sneer planted upon his face.

But rather than some dim witted hotel worker, he found himself face to face with Olivia.

She was leaning against the door frame, wearing the same outfit as before, with the addition of a black leather jacket which looked rather worn in. She seemed completely calm despite the abruptness of how Snape had torn open the door, and the thunderous expression he had across his face.

That expression quickly changed to one of outright confusion. Olivia simply looked him over once, and raised an eye brow, "You always answer the door in nothing but your undies?" she asked.

"I do when I am sleeping and eager to be rid of whoever may be disturbing me," he huffed. Embarrassment was another emotion he did not deal well with, and it too often turned into anger when he spoke.

"I don't know, you look pretty good in just your tiny briefs, might be hard to chase a lady away," Olivia said.

Snape blushed. He actually blushed. He felt the blood rush into his face, and at her compliment, he also felt the blood rush somewhere else…

"Is there a reason you woke me up in the middle of the night?" he demanded, while simultaneously thinking of Argus Filch in a bra and panties. The disgusting mental image had the effect he was looking for – things became dead quiet down below.

She laughed and pushed past him into the room, "Apologies," she said, "I didn't realize you went to bed at ten o'clock at night – or rather that you think 10 o'clock is considered the middle of the night. I didn't think you were quite so old."

He smirked, "Time change, and all."

"Bull shit" she said, but she smiled nonetheless.

"I see your vocabulary has expanded," he commented.

"I have an extensive vocabulary of foul language, fuck just happens to be my favorite."

She looked around his room, but finding nothing of interest in his bland hotel room, looked back at him.

"How did you find me?" he asked.

"Tracer charm," she said simply.

"I never noticed."

"Yea well, it's easy to be rather secretive about it when you don't need a wand."

An awkward silence fell between them. Snape soon became acutely aware of the fact that he was still only in his under garments. Olivia's eyes never left his face, but he still cast desperately around for something to talk about to distract her. He settled on the obvious question.

"What are you doing here?" Snape asked.

She smiled, a shy smile, "I overreacted before."

"So you're here to apologize?"

"Pssh, hardly."

"Then it seems I remain as confused as when I first posed the question," said Snape.

"I've come to hear you out," Olivia replied quietly, looking down at the toe of her boot.

"Why?"

"Does it matter?" she asked, seeming to flame up. She checked herself, and changed the subjet, "Drive with me."

"What?"

"Take a drive with me. It helps me think. Better yet, why don't' you stay with me tonight, rather than this dingy place."

"This is a rather nice hotel, actually," Snape said, defensively.

"I know," she said, "But you saved my life, so really, I would feel better if you just stayed at my place. Common courtesy and all that stuff."

He looked at her doubtfully. "I have a guest room," she said, lamely, "Gods Rus! I'm trying here, ok? But I don't like hotels. I lived in one for nearly a year when I first got to America, and, I don't know, it wasn't a good time for me. I mean obviously I've had worse, but that time wasn't particularly great, and…I'm rambling."

"Why did you live in a hotel?" Snape asked, as he began getting dressed while she was distracted with her rambling.

"I came here in October, so the school year had already started. I wasn't allowed to start until the beginning of the next school year, so that gave me some time to kill. Dumbledore tried to set me up with several foster families, but it never worked out…so I checked myself into a hotel. It was…lonely."

Now finished getting dressed, Severus waved his wand to pack his meager belongings, "Very well, then to you house we go."

She smiled, "Hope you don't mind muggle cars."

"I very well do bloody mind," he spat.

Olivia laughed, walking out of the room, "Well that's just too bad for you, isn't it?"

Snape scowled, but he also smiled a bit internally. At least this ride in a tin box of death should prove to be interesting. He certainly wanted a chance to talk to Olivia a bit more. Hope kindled in his chest. Maybe all was not lost, after all.

* * *

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